All The Wrong Things

I clutch the straps of my worn denim backpack in my sweaty fists, reaching for words. There are a million things that I could say, but only one of them is right. Only one of them will stop you from walking away right now. But which?

“Don’t go!” I could say. But that’s cliche and anyway, I’m not nearly assertive enough for that. 

“I love you!” Too upfront, and we’ve never said that before. In fact, we’ve never talked at all. At least, not in real life.

“Wait!” No, no, no. It’s all wrong.

“I have so much to tell you.” That would scare you off.

As you walk away, taking your colours with you, my heart pumps harder. Just say something. The words are on the tip of my tongue, I can almost see them in the air. I open my mouth, already cringing as I expect to blurt out something dumb. 

But instead, I call out, “You dropped your wallet!”

Suddenly, I’m holding a dark leather wallet in my hand. You turn around, meet my eyes, and the colours return- my backpack is now pink, your eyes are the most welcoming shade of amber honey, and the signs scattering the bus stop station are a jarring hodgepodge of garish, clashing greens and purples. My heart stops.

You start towards me, almost in slow motion. I don’t understand what is happening, but it’s as if everything that led to us meeting was fate instead of bad luck. My missing the last bus home, losing my purse (which I now know is a dark purple, and not black), and running into a gang of bikers- they all lead back to you and me, standing on this cobblestone street and gazing into each other’s eyes. 

Before I realize it, you’re standing in front of me. You hold out your hand, and without thinking, I shake it. A shimmer of light swoops down my skin from where we make contact, followed by a creeping tattoo- a rose surrounded by a halo of thorns. 

You stare at me. “It’s nice to meet you, too, but could I please have my wallet back?” It takes me a moment to come to my senses.

A furious hot blush rises in my neck and I’m sure my face is going blotchy. “I- I- I’m so sorry, here, um, just- just take it. Yeah. Heh.” With every syllable that jumps out of my mouth, I want to creep into a dark hole and hide forever. This is my chance.

I gesture to my new tattoo with a cautious air of hope. “Uhm, can you- can you see this?”

You sigh and run a hand through your meticulously rumpled hair. I’m caught off guard by how much I want to do the same. It’s as if a magnet connects us and now that I’m near you, I’m sucked into your gravitational field. 

“See what?” you ask. The excited lump in my throat jolts suddenly to the pits of my stomach, and now all I want to do is leave. 

“I’m such an idiot.” It takes me a second to realise that I mutter it out loud. You arch one perfectly defined brow. 

“I don’t understand what’s going on right now.” you say, crushing all my hopes.

Isn’t this how it’s supposed to be? I see colours. I see your aura. I got the tattoo. Why aren’t you seeing them?

“Can you see the colours?” I ask you. You look at me blankly.

“What colours?”

And then I understand.

You’re human.

“You- You’re human!” I exclaim. You shake your head sadly. 

“Yep.” The confirmation is more than I can bear and a solitary tear begins to leak out of the corner of my eye. Then it hits you.

“Oh my-” You stare up at the sky. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

I nod. “I’m so sorry, I- I don’t know why I expected this to work. I’ll leave now.”

I pivot briskly, swinging my long hair to cover my ashamed tears. I stride towards the other end of the sidewalk, not knowing where I’m going but needing to go away. Anywhere is better than here, now, with you.

“Wait.” Your hand grasps my arm, leaving sparks in my vision. I turn; your face has a soft concern to it. “Don’t go.” All the words that I couldn't say, all the words I shouldn't say, sound right when you say them.

You’re perfect. You always have been and you always will be, and you’ll never know it because you’re human.

“Want to explain this?” you ask cautiously. I nod my head and attempt to clear my thoughts. 

“I’ve, um, imprinted on you somehow. My heart stops when I see you, there are colours like I’ve never imagined, and now this-” I gesture to the tattoo on my palm, forgetting that you can’t see it- “This is all because of what I am. I assumed you were like me, one of the Sky People, because I’m not supposed to imprint on anyone else.”

You let out a delicate, bell-like laugh. “Well, I’ve never much followed the rules myself. Maybe things happen not because they’re supposed to, but because that’s what we really need.” I find myself nodding.

“I’m so sorry.” I mumble again. 

“Don’t be. I would love to hear about colours… I’ve always wanted to see them. Is there any way a human could?” You seem so genuine and excited, almost like a child, that my heart melts. 

“I don’t know. This isn’t exactly charted territory.” Then I realise what I’ve said. “Not that this” I gesture between us “is anything at all.”

You grin. “It could be.”

My heart, which has finally taken on a normal speed, takes off again at the speed of light. My hands begin to tremble and I intertwine them anxiously, disbelieving. “You mean…?” I can’t find the words to say it, but you seem to know what my intentions are.

“Yes. I do.” you say.

And, if it’s at all possible, the colours become more vivid as your aura surrounds me with flecks of gold and silver and a whirlwind of colours beyond description, colours that might not even exist.

And most of all, I suddenly know the right words to say.

“I have so much to tell you…”